


The Wings in the Nether

by PaintedDogfan



Series: Technoblade's Piglin adventures [6]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Piglin Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Tommy isn't going to be there until the future tho, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:28:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29074083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaintedDogfan/pseuds/PaintedDogfan
Summary: Philza finds a rather odd Piglin child in the Nether, what will he do?
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: Technoblade's Piglin adventures [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2042107
Comments: 149
Kudos: 351





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't write this to be connected with my other Piglin Technoblade fics, but some of them would work with this :)

Philza replaced his golden helmet with a fully enchanted netherite one as he swung his pickaxe down on the gold ore. This immediately had an effect as he heard some startled squeals behind him. He ducked down, barely missing the arrow whizzing past him. He watched another one hit the netherrack about 3 feet away from him. Piglins didn't have the best aim.  
He turned around, his shield immediately blocking a swing from a golden sword, then another one, before he went on the offensive and sliced the piglin’s throat. He didn't have time to ponder before his sword went through another one's stomach with a sickening squelch. He quickly pulled it out and surveyed the rest of the group. There were 3 left. He just needed to clear them of the area in order to not risk any surprise attacks while mining the gold.

He quickly took down 2 of them. It wasn't really something to brag about. Piglins were easy to kill. Sure, with numbers, they could be annoying, even dangerous at times, but most of the time, they're attacks were mostly brute force and careless swings without any real skill behind them. Despite being able to make tools and build bastions, they weren't the smartest mobs to exist. Although they were still smarter than zombies, Phil thought to himself.

He studied the last piglin. If he would've guessed, the thing looked about 12, maybe 13. He paused, lowering his shield slightly. The piglin wasn't doing anything, only staring blankly at the bodies of his group. For a single second he wondered why the child wasn't running away. It should have had at least some reaction to him. He laughed. Maybe they really were more brainless than skeletons. He felt no remorse as he swiftly raised his bloody sword, sprinting towards the pig.

He stopped just as quickly when the small piglin raised it's own sword, growling as it bared it's short, still growing, tusks. He stared dumbfounded for a moment, before another laugh escaped him. Was this tiny piglin actually trying to fight him after it just watched him kill all of the adults around him? It could just run away and Phil would never be able to catch up to it. Not in the searing heat. Plus, it was a one on one fight. Phil knew how piglins operated in fights. They fought in groups. If they outnumbered the enemy, then they were willing to fight. If they didn't, then they simply ran away. And those were adult Piglins. The children wouldn't even go near him, unless of course, he had gold nuggets.

He almost admired the piglin for it's useless bravery, almost felt sorry for it as he raised his fully enchanted netherite sword for a killing blow. What he wasn't expecting was for the piglin to block the blow with it's own flimsy, almost broken, gold sword. That however did not stop him from raising his shield and backing away when the piglin attempted a swing at him. He wasn't an ameture that let himself be distracted during a fight, especially not with one of his three lives gone. 

His bright, sky blue eyes met pale, grey ones. Phil's defense almost dropped. He had been in enough fights with both piglins, and humans to know that something was definitely wrong with the piglin in front of him. Not only had the child blocked his swing, it was also observing him, studying his every move with the skill of an experienced player. A Piglins gaze was supposed to be angry and unfocused. But the child's gaze was calm, and concentrated, despite its low growling.

He stared at the pink figure in front of him, unsure of what to do. He decided to go for another attack, it got blocked again. Then Another one, and another. Unsurprisingly, these attacks also got blocked or doged. Phil almost celebrated when he heard a pained squeak, but was disappointed when he realized he had only nicked one of its floppy ears.

This was when the piglin decided to start it's own attacks. Phil doged and blocked the blows, returning some of his own. He was slowly pushing the piglin back, towards a ledge that led to a huge pool of lava. Then the piglin did something that he didn't expect. It ducked down, and lunged itself towards his legs, and grabbed onto his sword. Phil, too surprised to realize what he was doing, let go of his grip on the weapon. Once he realized the sword wasn't in his hands, he tried slamming his shield down on the piglin's head, to no avail as it quickly got out of the way and stood in front of him, the golden sword exchanged for the stronger, netherite one.

Phil raised his shield, mouth gaping. Did he have some sort of curse? He remembered when the baby zombie had taken his first life. Now a baby piglin could very possibly take his second if he wasn't careful. 

He slowly spread out his simmering grey wings, keeping an eye on the piglin. He was about to fly off when he noticed that his dark, purple sword wasn't in the piglin a hands. Instead, it was midair and hit the netherrack with a soft thud. He paused. The piglin's growling had stopped, and Instead of anger, it was looking at him, or rather his wings, with a look of pure awe, absolutely mesmerized by their subtle, purplish glow. Not unlike how a piglin would stare at gold.

Phil realised that this was his chance to get his sword back. He watched as the baby piglin slowly moved towards him, hand outstretched, reaching towards his wings. He paused as the piglin's hooved hands rested just above one of his feathers. He glanced at his sword, then the piglin. He could just run to get it right now, while the piglin was distracted. But he also wanted to know what was up with it. So he stayed for a moment longer, watching as the piglin carefully stroked one of his feathers as if it was some mystical object.

After a few seconds, he lunged for his sword. The piglin stumbled back, falling down, letting out a squeak of surprise. He walked up to the piglin, blocking it's path. There were only two options for it, the lava, or Phil. It was trapped. He looked down on the furry creature. The thing looked scared, with its ears pressed flat against it's skull and knitted eyebrows as it curled into itself a little more every time he moved.

He furrowed his eyebrows. This was definitely not a normal piglin, that so far, was obvious. But why, and how? How did it have such skill, equal to himself even? And why was it so mesmerized by his wings? He looked at the piglin again. It let out a small whine at his gaze, scurrying closer to the lava.

He frowned. He could always just take it's sword and leave it in a ditch somewhere so that it wouldn't get out until he was done, and hopefully it would be gone by the next time he came to the nether. He almost didn't want to kill it. It seemed, like well, it deserved to live. He wanted to bury his face into his face. He seriously was feeling sorry for a piglin. But he had to keep his guard up. Instead, he knelt down, heart wrenching as it released another terrified whine.

After a moment, he plucked out one of his smaller feathers, and held it out to the piglin. The piglin screwed its eyes shut and cowered, but paused when it caught sight of the small, grey feather. It's ears perked up as he stared between Phil, and the feather. Finally, with hesitant hands, it reached out for it, and snatched it from Phil. It quickly stumbled back and shut its eyes again, but when no blow came, he opened one of them for a moment.

Phil watched as the piglin held onto the feather as if it's life depended on it, Carefully running one of it's hooved fingers over it. Even Phil had to admit, it was sort of adorable. But he had spent too much time with it, and he needed to get the gold. He clicked his tongue to get the younger's attention, then replaced his shield with one of the many golden carrots he carried with him.

He moved back, cutting a piece off with his sword and throwing it towards the piglin. The piglin looked rather thin, so he hoped that this would work and he wouldn't have to resort to, well, the other option. The piglin slowly reached out to it, keeping a hesitant eye on Phil, then put it in it's mouth, chomping down as quickly as it could. Phil was right, the piglin was hungry, hopefully hungry enough to follow him for more.

He moved back again, towards a ditch, and did the same thing. Again the piglin accepted the carrot. By the third time, it was a little bit more confident, still hesitant, but too hungry to care much. Slowly he led it over to a small gap in the netherrack that would surely hold the piglin for at least a little bit. Maybe he could help it out before he left? He placed a whole golden carrot on the edge, and quickly walked a few feet away. Once he was far enough, the piglin excitedly ran to the carrot, seemingly scared that it would disappear. It stuffed the shiny vegetable in its mouth, and turned around, only to see an ender pearl drop right in front of him, and then Phil appeared a moment later, shoving it into the pit. He walked away, not bothering to check on the disgruntled piglin, that yelped as it hit the bottom. He had work to do.


	2. Chapter 2

He brought down his pickaxe on the last piece of gold in the area, painfully aware of the small sobs periodically escaping the pit. He considered just leaving the piglin child In the hole, and heading home, but a particularly heart wrenching cry quickly changed his mind. He walked over to the pit, his presence immediately making the piglin, who was trying to climb over the edge, drop it's hold and scurry to a corner, eyes wide. He sighed, making a small ramp by dropping bigger pieces of netherrack into the hole. He then turned and walked towards the portal that emitted a purple haze, not bothering to check if the piglin could get out. It was just a mindless mob after all.

As he stepped through the portal, he felt nauseous for a moment, before taking in the cool, summer air. The blue sky and green grass was a nice change from the angry red netherrack and hot, dry air that clogged his lungs and was almost impossible to breath in. 

He made his way to the cottage, and greeted his 15 year old son, Wilbur. He set down his bag, filled to the brim with gold. He could smelt it later, right now, he just needed a shower. He let himself feel the cold water run down his wings, a single missing feather was a reminder of the child in the nether.

When he was done, he sat down to eat dinner with Wilbur. 

"Hey Wil?" 

"Yeah?"

He put a fork through a piece of broccoli, "I wanna talk to you about something that happened in the nether today."

Wilbur listened closely as Philza explained the strange occurrence with the Piglin, frowning. He hadn't been to the Nether much, preferring to stay in the overworld where he could breathe without inhaling ash. But from what little he knew about piglins, he agreed that this one was different from the rest. His big heart couldn't take it.

"And you just left him there to starve? You said you cut part of his ear! And then dropped him down a pit without checking if he got hurt?"

Phil pinched the bridge of his nose. "Wilbur, it's just a mob. I could've easily just killed it."

Wilbur exploded. "He was a child! You just killed his family in front of him! Probably traumatized him too!"

Phil leaned closer, staring at Wilbur directly in the eyes. "Wilbur, you don't know how the nether works. Everything, save for the striders, is hostile. Piglins are no different than any other mob. Just because they're not undead, doesn't mean they have feelings. If you give a piglin all the gold in the world, it'll still attack you the second it realizes that you have none left. I know you have a big heart, but you have to use logic Wilbur."

Wilbur glared at him, before banging his hands on the table and storming off, silently seething.

Phil sighed. Wilbur was too nice for his own good. He supposed that he should have been proud, but when your son refused to kill baby zombies, or even had a hard time killing other hostile mobs, it got dangerous. He didn't mind when Wilbur refused to go hunting, but he rued the day that Wilbur would lose a life because he was too easily trusting and saw the good in everyone, even if there was none.

Still though, he didn't want his only son to be mad at him. He supposed that he could offer to take him to Nether and check on the Piglin, if it wasn't gone by then. Maybe spare a golden apple. He stood up, putting his and Wilbur's plate in the sink, making sure to scrape off the unfinished food from Wilbur's plate into the garbage first.

He strode over to Wilbur's bedroom, opening the door.

"Wil?" He started.

Wilbur glared at him bitterly, "what do you want?"

Phil looked down, "Listen will, I'm sorry for getting mad at you earlier."

Wilbur's expression did not change. "That's what you're sorry for? How about apologizing to the piglin?"

Phil looked at him, "I'm sorry for that too."

Wilbur scowled at the floor.

Phil continued, "But if it makes you feel any better, we can go back tomorrow, check on it if you feel up to the job."

Wilbur's expression brightened as he looked up at him, surprised.

"Wait really?"

"As long as you wake up early tomorrow and do your chores."

Wilbur grinned at him, "Thank you."

He smiled back, "Of course."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the short chapter. Next chapter will be longer :)


	3. Chapter 3

They headed towards the portal, Phil stepping through first, landing on the other side with a woosh. He shook his head slightly to clear the nausea, when he heard a surprised yip. Looking down, he saw a familiar pink figure scurrying away, holding the same golden sword.

"Huh." He wondered aloud, "how come you're still here?"

He was snapped out of his thoughts by a crackle behind him and he turned to see Wilbur appearing in the purple mist. He rubbed his eyes dreary, before he spotted the piglin, who was now warily observing them from behind a piece of netherrack. There wasn't much else to hide under in the nether wastes. 

Wilbur smiled, grabbing a golden apple from his satchel, and taking a few slow steps forward, pausing when the piglin shrunk back a little. Cutting a piece of the gold coated apple, he knelt down and held it up for the pig to see. The child's eyes immediately latched on, apparently still hungry. 

He laughed, "You want this?"

The child didn't respond, not understanding what he was saying. Instead, it just raised its head over the netherrack a little higher. Wilbur gestured for him to step back, not wanting him to frighten the child more, he obeyed.

The brunette threw the piece of the golden fruit towards the piglin, who peered at it suspiciously, still remembering what happened the last time someone had given it food. 

Phil sighed, "c'mon Wil, why don't we just leave it alone to eat the apple. It's clearly afraid of us. 

Wilbur slowly backed away, "Actually, that's a great idea, come on, let's go."

After he left the remainder of the apple in the ground, Phil followed him away from the portal, and they climbed onto a ledge, watching the piglin from afar, out of view.

After a few minutes, the piglin hesitantly trotted over to the golden fruit, before snatching it and running back to its hiding place. It waited for a few moments, scanning the area, before taking a bite. It yelped in surprise, as a hooved hand went to its ear, clearly not familiar with the effects of healing magic. After a minute, the floppy ear was done healing, and the scabbed over wound had become merely a scar. The piglin had calmed down from the strange sensation when it realised that it wasn't pain, and ate the apple happily as a strange euphoria washed over him, a pleasant side effect of the magical fruit.

Wilbur left Phil, and leisurely strolled back, making sure to stomp his foot every so often in order to not startle the scared creature even more. Once the piglin noticed him, he held up a carrot in his hand, and crouched down, keeping the attention on him. The piglin eyed him curiously, though it was already far more trusting of Wilbur than Phil. Phil laughed, Wilbur always had that effect on everyone.

The piglin seemed to ignore the carrot, already satisfied with its previous meal, and it's attention was directed at Wilbur's enchanted golden boots. Wilbur realised this and pulled out a golden nugget instead, putting the carrot on the ground next to him. The gold loving mob's ears perked up slightly as it caught sight of it, and it stepped up in the open, slowly making its way towards the brunette, sword held protectively. Wibur clicked his tongue a few times and smiled at it, urging it closer.

Eventually, it made its way over to him, and clutched the golden nugget that the older of the two handed him. Wilbur laughed causing the piglin to look up at him, head tilted slightly. He smiled at it, and reached a hand out, making sure the piglin had no objections, before petting it on the head. The touch starved kid leaned into the hand, making an almost purr like sound. Wilbur cooed at the piglin as his finger slowly traced the pink fur stained with red dust. The piglin practically melted when he started rubbing behind one of it's ears as it closed its eyes, all danger seemingly forgotten.

The comforting moment didn't last long however, as the piglin caught sight of Phil stepping closer, and let out a whimper as it scurried away. Wilbur frowned at the grey eyes looking fearfully between the two humans.

The brunette turned towards Phil, noticing a flash of guilt in his eyes.

"C'mon you saw that right? He clearly has feelings!" He whined.

Phil looked back at piglin, frowning.

"Listen, we should probably go back, but you can leave the rest of the food by the portal for it."

"Can't we take him with us?" He pleaded. 

Phil shot him a stern look. "No, he's a hostile mob, we can't take him with us. Besides, would bringing him to the overworld really be the best idea right now? He's already scared as is. Forcing him through a portal and putting him in a completely new environment doesn't seem like it would do him and favors."

Wilbur looked down, and after a moment, he replied, "Yeah, I guess you're right about the last part." he paused before adding resentfully "not so sure about the first part though."

Phil waited until his son had dumped the remaining golden carrots that they had brought with them on the ground, before turning towards the portal.

"C'mon let's go."

The brunette gave the grey eyed creature one final glance. 

"Alright, I'm coming."

They heard a confused squeak before the scarlet around them dissolved into spiraling purple swirls.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dadza: *doesn't want piglin son*  
> Family: *gets piglin son anyways*  
> Dadza and piglin son: 🕺🐖

The purple slowly turned to blue as the harsh air cooled. Phil stepped down from the obsidian, Wilbur promptly doing the same. 

He breathed "Well that certainly was an experience."

Phil didn't know how he felt about the situation. "Yeah I told you the piglin was acting weird."

Wilbur hummed as they started walking back. "Can we go back in a few days?"

Phil laughed, "What's this sudden change in attitude, I thought you hated the nether?"

"Yes, I do, I definitely do, but the piglin..."

Phil stopped laughing, "Wil, it's a piglin, it's supposed to live in the nether, it'll be fine, he'll go and find a group he feels safe with, and stick with them."

The brunette hummed.

They made it a few steps, before stopping abruptly as they heard a whoosh coming from behind them. Phil whirled around, just in time to catch the portal spit out a suspiciously familiar figure. The piglin stumbled off of the obsidian, trying to keep itself steady, failing as it tripped over it's own feet, and promptly threw up on the dirt below it. Phil's jaw dropped. He could already feel the headache coming as he looked over at Wil's absolutely thrilled expression.

Wilbur rushed over to the piglin, and helped it up. It blinked a few times, before looking at the world around him. Now it was it's turn to gape. It moved closer to Wilbur, latching onto the bits of cloth that fell through his armour. The human cooed, crouching as he brought the piglin closer. It buried it's face in his leg, a whimper escaping it's throat. Wilbur tenderly rubbed circles on it's back in an attempt to comfort it, ignoring the painful tusks digging in his skin.

"Told you it would be scared." He walked up from behind, frowning at the cries from the youngest. He didn't like seeing children scared. Even, dare he say, piglin children. He looked down guiltly at the terrified kid while Wilbur was shushing him. Him. When had he started referring to it as him? 

He sighed, crouching and extending one of his wings, gently nudging him with the appendage. This caught the child's attention, and he started fiddling with them, carefully playing with the primaries. After a few moments he seemed to calm down, the wings distracting him. Phil chuckled to himself, causing the child to look up at him wide eyed, seemingly noticing him for the first time as he stepped back and hid behind Wilbur. Phil stepped back to allow the child some space, and watched as he looked around at the overworld in awe.

The piglin kneeled down, extending his sword towards dirt, gently poking it. Once he was sure it was safe, he reached out a hooved hand, and delicately touched it. He did the same to the alluring green stuff growing in the dirt. Once he grew bored of playing with the grass, he stood up, spotted the forest a few feet away, and started trotting towards the treeline. Wilbur and Phil looked at each other and shrugged before trailing after the curious child.

The piglin had forgotten his fear of Phil for the time being. The new world was far more dangerous and mysterious. Everything seemed to fascinate him. His ears picked up on every sound from the rustling sounds of rabbit hopping by, to the melody of chirping birds. He felt anything he could. The rough texture of bark reminded him of the crimson and warped forests back home. The soft grass reminded him of crimson roots. But the colors excited him the most. He had never seen half of the colors in the overworld. When he looked up, the roof was blue, dappled with white splotches. The nether roof was dark, and dull. Speckled in between the strangely colored grass, were flowers of every color imaginable. 

He then spotted a gap in the ground filled with...clear lava? Clear blood? Phil chuckled as he watched the perplexed piglin walk over and poke at the water with it's sword, in obvious bewilderment. He walked over slowly, in order to not startle him, though he wasn't sure if the child even noticed him, and dipped his hand into the water, sprinkling some on the younger's face. This snapped him out of whatever trance he was in, and he wrinkled his snout and screwed his eyes shut, before opening them and blinking a few times. The winged man laughed as the child touched his nose, face deep in concentration as it tried to focus on the new sensation of water. 

Eventually, he decided on slowly lowering a finger into the mysterious liquid, then his whole hand. He snorted a small giggle as he moved his hand in circles, stirring up some mud. Wilbur laughed too, as he walked over, scooping up some water, letting it run through his fingers and make a dropping sound. The piglin slowly inches closer to the edge, then, to everyone's horror, started tipping forward. There was a splash as wilbur shouted and the piglin yelped. The piglin sat, waist deep in the water, wide eyed, frozen in shock. 

Phil roared with laughter while Wilbur snickered. They stopped when the piglin let out a terrified whine. Wilbur took his hand, helping him out of the water. The avian pulled out a cloth and handed it to his son, frowning when the child flinched at him. Wilbur took the cloth, and the piglin squeaked in surprise when the human suddenly started drying him, but ended up leaning into the touch. Once he was fairly dry, the brunette turned to his father, grinning. The question didn't need to be asked

Phil sighed, burying his head in his hands. "Fine, he can stay for a few days, But only a few. Then we put him right back through the portal."

Wilbur whooped, correcting himself when the youngest of the trio got spooked.

The elder groaned. What had he gotten himself into?


	5. Chapter 5

They started in the direction of their little cabin, Wilbur motioning for the piglin to follow them. It took longer than usual, due to the child exploring everything in their path, but eventually, they made it home.

The child stood in front of the doorway, admiring the size of the house. Wilbur gently nudged him in, and brought him to sit on the couch. He obliged, watching them move around with perked up ears, while scanning the house for a quick escape at the same time. He didn't forget his first encounter with Phil.

They quickly unloaded their gear, and placed it in their respectful chests. Phil glanced at his sweat filled hair, and the red dust covering his hands and clothes, before shrugging it off. He had to focus on the fact that there was a literal mob who was apparently going to stay in his house and could attack at any moment. 

He glanced over at said mob. He would need a bath too. The accident involving water earlier had washed the outside layer of netherrack dust and soot off of his fur, but he definitely needed a good scrub. Phil winced as he saw that the couch was already streaked with grime. The child sitting on top of it, glanced at him with innocent eyes, completely unaware of his offense. Yeah, they both definitely needed a shower.

They finished putting all the stuff away, changing into more suited clothes, sloppily washing their hands and faces. It was time to address the child.

"Do piglins have names?" Wilbur inquired.

"Why would they have names?"

He paused, thinking for a second. "Dolphins have names for each other."

Phil chuckled "Mate, does he look like a dolphin to you? They are literal opposites"

Wilbur laughed too "Yeah not the best comparison I must admit, anyways, what do we do now."

Phil shrugged "You insisted he come here, keep him entertained, make sure he doesn't cause trouble, and find some of your old clothes that'll fit him. He needs a bath later. I'm going to feed the animals and prepare dinner."

Wilbur nodded, then turned to the piglin.

"Alright what do you wanna do?"

The piglet oinked at him.

"Alright, wasn't expecting much of a response..." He thought for a moment, "Well, Phil did tell me to get you some better clothes. C'mon."

He gestured for him to follow, and started walking towards the stairs. Small hooved feet followed him hesitantly, still wary of his surroundings, but feeling slightly safer now that the human that attacked him earlier was gone. 

They reached the top, and the brunette lowered the ladder that led to the attic. Reaching the top, he helped the piglin up, making sure he still had some space in case he wanted to get away. At the top, he backed away, and let the newcomer take in his surroundings, before beginning the hunt for the box with all of his old clothes.

After checking a few, he finally found it. He grabbed a knife out of his pocket, immediately regretting the decision as the piglin scrambled away with a squeak, knocking down a few boxes in the process.   
He dropped the knife, and crouched down, backing away slowly with his hands out.

"Hey, hey, I just wanna get the box open." He said with a nervous smile, glancing at the sword pointed at him.

He slowly moved back towards the knife, aware of the crimson eyes watching him as he reached for the object. He heard a low growl, but ignored it as he stabbed the box open, making sure the child could see what he was doing. The growling stopped, and he kicked the knife over to the piglin, who started studying it. Once he was done with his assessment, he huffed and glanced apologetically at him, handing the object back. 

Wilbur grabbed it before laughing "Hey, don't worry about it. It was my fault."

He pulled out some of the garments, inspecting them. He held up a shirt that looked like it would fit. 

"Well, what do you think?"

He was met with silence.

"Right, forgot you can't understand me."

He looked back into the box, pulling out a few shirts, and a pair of pants. He paused for a second, before pulling out a red sweater. Even the hottest days of summer were nothing compared to the hellish heat of the nether. The temperature change must have been quite a shock for him.

He grabbed a pair of scissors, cutting a small hole in the back of the pants for his tiny tail, and then presented the garments to the piglin, who looked at the clothes with confusion.

They were old and worn, they probably didn't fit the younger correctly either, but they were much cleaner than the filthy rags he was currently wearing. He started looking for some old shoes before pausing and looking at the child's hooves. Did he even need shoes? He shrugged, he seemed fine without them, plus, he hadn't really seen any piglin's wear shoes before, so he assumed that him being barefoot wouldn't cause any trouble.

He grabbed the clothes, and started climbing down the ladder, waving at his new friend.

"C'mon, once dad is done cooking and you get a bath, you can change into these."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh sorry for the delay i got a lot of homework 😔


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> O_O'

Phil entered the house, just in time to see his son walking down the stairs with the Piglin trailing behind him. The piglin stiffened when he saw him, but relaxed slightly when he saw no weapons on him. Wilbur held up some of the clothes.

"I found some that looked like they would fit. I'd say he'll look pretty stylish in them."

Phil nodded in approval "Yeah, those look about his size, but are you sure you're not just saying he'll look good because you used to wear them."

He laughed as Wilbur sputtered for a comeback. Opening the fridge, he grabbed a piece of pork, cutting it into 2 pieces, then began to cut the extra fat off. Pork cutlet and mashed potatoes sounded good. 

The other two inhabitants followed him in, and were now sitting on the floor. Phil raised an eyebrow, but didn't ask why Wilbur was staring at the youngest with an intent look on his face. 

After a moment of contemplation, Wilbur pointed to himself "Wilbur."

The piglin looked up at him, tilting his head.

Wilbur repeated his name "Wilbur"

Nothing

This time he did it slower "Wil-Bur"

Phil chuckled from across the room "Mate you do realize he doesn't understand you, right?"

The brunette furrowed his eyebrows. He continued pointing at himself and repeating his name, until finally, the child got the hint.

He tested the word on his mouth "ibrr?"

Wilbur's face elated, "Yes! That's not exactly it, but that's okay, try again. Wi-L-bur."

The mob tried again "Wiburr?"

Wilbur grinned "close enough!". He gave Phil a told-you-so look.

Phil paused his cutting, "Well shit mate, maybe you were right."

At the sound of the voice, the Piglin turned to him, and pointed "Wiburr."

Wil laughed then pointed to Phil "No, that's Phil, can you say that? Phil, Ph-I-L."

"El?"

Phil laughed, "Are you trying to teach him my name, or are you trying to teach him spanish?"

Wilbur repeated the "F" sound, prompting the child to attempt it. It took a few tries, but eventually, he got a similar response."

"Okay now try adding it to il. F-il. Fil"

The child tried it "fil"

Wilbur clapped his hands, surprising the piglin slightly "Yes! That's correct! You did it!" 

The piglin looked at him startled, trying to figure out whether or not he was in trouble. He decided that he wasn't when he felt soft hands enthusiastically ruffling the fur on his head. 

"Alright, now we need to give you a name" Wilbur decided.

Phil sighed "Wil, he doesn't need a name."

"Well we can't just refer to him as 'The piglin', right?"

" 'The piglin' won't be staying long enough to need a name. Besides, how do you know he even understands the concept of names and isn't just repeating what you're saying?"

"He understands," Wilbur insisted, slightly annoyed, then proceeded to prove his point by pointing to himself. He was thrilled when the child tried saying his name. "See."

Phil ran a hand through his hair, reaching for a potato to peel. "Listen, if it makes you feel better, then give him a name, but don't expect him to understand." He gave his son a stern look "And don't get attached, he's going to be gone tomorrow morning."

Wilbur gaped "What? You said he could stay at least a couple days!"

"Wilbur. He's a hostile mob. I don't want him to attack us because we accidentally provoked him."

The brunette gawked at him. "Attack us?" He gestured towards the piglin, who was looking between them confused. "Look at him! We don't even have gold on and he's friendly. Besides, how could a child hurt us in any way?"

"Didn't you listen when I first told you about him, he almost killed me! Your saying he's not dangerous?"

Wilbur seethed "Isn't that more reason for him to stay longer? He's clearly different if he managed that."

"Wil"

"No!" Wilbur yelled, yanking the piglin up by the arm, and directing him towards the door. The child yelped, raising his sword and attempting a swing to free himself from the sudden grip. 

Phil grabbed the piglin's wrist, and yanked the golden sword out of his grip. He knocked the mob over, and put a hand on his chest while pointing the knife that was used to peel potatoes, directly at his throat, making sure the piglin could see what would happen if he moved.

Wilbur froze in shock for a moment, staring at his arm. After a tense moment, he forced his gaze away from what could have been a very serious injury, and looked towards his father and the child.

The trembling piglin looked terrified, staring at Phil with wide eyes. Phil turned to him with a stern gaze. "Put on your armor and grab me my sword." 

Wilbur started "it wasn't his fault-"

"Now, or else I'm going to have to kill him so that he doesn't hurt you."

Wilbur paused for a second, before running to get his armor on. He didn't believe that the piglin could actually hurt him with Phil restraining him, but he did believe that Phil wouldn't hesitate to do anything to protect him, even at the slightest threat."

He came back, pausing when Phil gestured for the sword. A chill ran down his spine. "Y- your not going to-?" He trailed off at the end.

Phil knew exactly what he was asking. "As long as he doesn't try anything, then no, I won't."

Wilbur nodded as Phil grabbed the piglin's shoulder and roughly pushed him up. The child considered running for a single second, before he felt the sharp point of a netherite sword against his back. Phil shoved him forward, urging him to walk. With the threat of the sword, he obeyed as he stumbled forward, and out through the doorway of the house.

Wilbur watched stunned as Phil forced the piglin to walk towards the direction of the portal. A small frightened squeak that managed to escape the piglin's tusks was what brought him back to his senses. He caught up to them, and began pleading with his father.

"Wait, Phil, please, it wasn't his fault! It was mine! I scared him. He didn't know I was gonna grab him!"

Phil ignored his pleading. Why had he thought that this was a good idea? Bringing a hostile nether mob, especially one that was exceptionally skilled, into their house, then discarding their defenses. That sounded insane no matter how you put it. 

His son watched in horror as he yanked the piglin up harshly, and kicked him through the portal, breaking off a chunk of obsidian as soon as the mob went through with a surprised squeal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yall really though that it was going to be smooth sailing after the last chapter. Unfortunately that is not the case. However, this isn't the end, there's still hope for Technoblade :)


	7. Chapter 7

Wilbur didn't have any words to say as his father swiftly turned around. His breath hitched, tears threatened to spill if he even made the slightest noise. He had to swallow the lump in his throat as he silently followed Phil back to their house. He hurried to his room, quietly closing the door, before letting the tears out.

He sobbed on his bed, arms curled around his knees. How could he have been so stupid? He only wanted to get his friend out of the kitchen and into the living room. He didn't mean to startle him. He should have been more careful, given him some sort of indication of what he was going to do. But no, he just had to mess everything up and scare him into feeling like he needed to protect himself. And now the piglin was paying the price of his mistake. 

He squeezed his eyes shut. He had to do something. But what? He thought back to the broken portal. Could he fix it? No. He had never been to the nether alone. It was too dangerous, and he was too inexperienced. But the younger child survived so long, learning how to protect himself with his sword. So why couldn't he?

Another sob wrecked his body. The piglin probably only survived in the nether because of his sword. Phil had taken it away. The last he saw of it was on the kitchen floor. Now not only was he ill equipped, he was also defenseless. If he didn't find the safety of other piglins, he would surely die. Even with his little experience with the nether, and his surplus of innocence, the brunette knew he couldn't deny the brutality of the nether. All it took was for a stray hoglin or wither skeleton to spot him, and he would be gone. Wilbur had to do something. It was his fault after all.

He stayed there for a while, sulking, before he was called out for dinner. He slowly opened the door, walking towards the dining room, which was really more just 2 chairs and a small table in between the kitchen and the living room. He met his father's eyes. Phil looked up at his puffy lips and tear streaked face, before sighing.

"Wil, you knew he had to go sooner or later. I already gave you that warning."

Wilbur said nothing as he sat down and began to absentmindedly pick at the mashed potatoes.

"He was going to hurt you, I wasn't going to let that happen."

Silence. Being ignored was almost worse than being called heartless.

Phil tried again "Wil, I need you to understand something. I love you and I would never let anything hurt you."

He heard a quiet "I know…" as Wilbur gulped.

"The piglin was going to hurt you. Piglins are hostile mobs, Wilbur."

Wilbur grit his teeth. "...He wasn't hostile."

"He attacked you-"

The brunette stared at the winged man with a desperate look "I scared him. He was just defending himself."

"I know Wilbur, but I can't have him hurting you."

"But he didn't hurt me."

"He could've."

"But he didn't"

Phil gripped his fork tighter. He wasn't going to play a childish game of "did and did not".

"Wilbur, I want you to look at your arm. What would have happened if I wasn't in the room, or wasn't fast enough? What do you think would happen to your arm? Or worse, what if he wasn't just aiming at your arm. What if he was aiming to leave you with just 2 lives?"

Wilbur looked at his unscathed arm. A second of fear flashed in his eyes. What would have happened? What if the piglin attacked him again and Phil wasn't there to save him?

He buried his head in his hands. No. The piglin wouldn't attack him again because he wouldn't give him a reason to. He just had to be more careful.

They finished dinner silently. As he headed back to his room, he heard a soft call from the dining room.

"I hope you understand why I did it Wil. It was necessary."

He shut the door, not bothering to respond. He already knew what he was going to do. Convincing Phil to go with him to the nether and bring back the piglin was not an option. He could always ask Phil if he could leave some supplies for the piglin the next time he went to the nether. But what if Phil thought he was still attached? What if he decided to-. No, he didn't want to think about what Phil might do to the child.

He sighed as he laid a hand on his forehead. He had to go to the nether alone, and bring the piglin back. But then what would he do? He couldn't just bring him to his room. Phil would surely force him back to the nether. No. Wilbur knew that wasn't true. He would kill him without a second though. It was a miracle that the piglin's corpse wasn't already on the kitchen floor just a few hours ago.

The first step was going to be getting the piglin to the overworld. He hoped he stayed near the portal. He didn't want to stay in the nether longer than necessary. Then he would hide him somewhere, where Phil wouldn't find him. He thought of the barn they had. Surely If he offered to feed the animals, his dad wouldn't get too suspicious, right? And when Phil did actually go to the barn, he could just hide in the loft under the hay. As long as he didn't make too much noise, Phil wouldn't find him. He grinned at his plan as he went for a well deserved shower. Maybe it would all work out in the end?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As long as you ignore dream smp canon, then you know the answer to the last sentence :)


	8. Chapter 8

He listened to Phil's footsteps as he climbed the stairs, and into his bedroom. He heard some shuffling, and waited patiently, not daring to breathe, before he heard him climb into bed. He looked up at the clock, deciding on waiting 20 minutes for Phil to fall asleep. Then he would make his journey.

He listened carefully, intently watching the clock. Once he heard his father's snoring, he waited another 5 minutes, before making his move. He slowly opened his door, putting one foot in front of the other, before arriving at the potions chest. He grabbed onto both sides and heaved it open, cringing at the creaking sound it made. He held his breath. When he heard a snore, he forced himself to continue. Grabbing a fire resistance potion, he closed the chest and went to go grab his armor in the basement. He tried muffling his footsteps, only to realize that the screeching of netherite armor against itself was much worse.

He decided to save the armor for last, heading instead to a chest filled with golden apples. He grabbed 2, wrapping them in cloth to eliminate any noise the gold infused fruit might make with the small, outer layer of metal. He did the same for a couple of golden carrots, deciding that the piglin would be hungry. He almost forgot about flint and steel, quickly reminding himself and stuffing it in his bag. He then went for his sword, watching the wave of enchantments sparkle with a purple hue, before sheathing it. He continued, grabbing 2 bottles of water, giving them the same treatment as the golden apples. Lastly, he grabbed his bow, and a handful of normal arrows that Phil wouldn't notice missing among their weakness tipped arrows.

He then turned to his armor again, lifting it up the chestplate, forcing himself to put it on as it scraped against itself, making both an unpleasant and loud noise. Getting the rest of the armour on was just as unnerving, but eventually, he was adorning sparkling netherite armor, with a golden helmet resting upon his head.

It felt like forever trying to get out of the house, painfully aware of the loud scratching his armor made with even the slightest movements. Eventually, he made it through the door, and he quickly shut it, forgetting that he had to be quiet in his panic. He nervously eyed the door. If Phil woke up now, there was no way He would ever see the piglin again. Phil would know exactly where he was going, and would do everything to stop him. He almost chuckled at that. It was no secret that his father thought he was a softie. Even if he announced his exact plans, no move would be made to stop him. Phil simply didn't expect him to do such a thing. Perhaps that's why he left the piece of obsidian by the portal.

He winced when he heard his armor grate against itself again. Sure, what he was doing was unexpected, but Phil had faced far worse than unexpected. He would connect the dots, perhaps be a bit surprised, but would still stop him. He had to be carefull. 

He frowned at the purple hue of the various enchantments on his armor as he made his way towards the portal. Sure, they were overpowered, but for stealth, the enchantments were terrible. In the daytime, the sun would reflect off the enchantments, basically making you glow like a lamp. In the nighttime however, no matter how dark it was, the enchantments would have purple glint that washed over the armor in waves, seemingly getting brighter the less light there was. In all honesty, Wilbur thought that it was beautiful, but he knew his father's opinion on it. Phil couldn't appreciate the majestic glow. It reminded him too much of endermen eyes. The light emitting from them was bright, yet somehow not illuminating anything else, Forcing you to feel trapped with no place to go as all you saw was never ending darkness and the creepy eyes of danger as you desperately tried to look away.

Once he made it to the portal, it didn't take long for him to find the obsidian that was removed. He walked alongside the broken portal, before catching a glint of moonlight reflecting off the smooth, black rock. He grabbed it, and shoved it into the crack that it fell out of. Once satisfied that the portal was complete, he pulled out the flint and a piece of steel that he brought. He held it close to the obsidian, bringing his hand down and striking the steel with the piece of flint. When the sparks disappeared into nothingness and the portal wasn't lit, he tried again, until the porta finallyl ignited with a woosh.

He hastily stepped away, barely catching the purple haze fill the last corner. Taking a deep breath, he took a step on to the obsidian frame, mentally preparing himself, before he walked into the mist, watching as his vision swirled and all he could see was the violet. When the dark purple was slowly replaced with deep red, he stepped out, coughing as the heavy air filled his lungs.

Once he recovered, he rubbed his eyes and looked around, unsheathing his sword. Making sure the golden helmet was secured firmly on his head, he walked forward, heaving himself up on to a netherrack boulder. Panting slightly from the effort, he scanned the area, looking for any sign of the child. He had to find him quickly, or Phil would notice he was gone.

He found no sign of the piglin and sighed. What would he do now? He furrowed his eyebrows in concentration. He didn't actually have a plan for finding the piglin, he just assumed he would be waiting by the portal like last time. Spotting a crimson forest in the distance, he jumped off the boulder, his feet hitting the netherrack with a thump. Surely the piglin would want to go to the forest, right?

He eventually made his way over to the forest. Stepping over the nylium, he navigated his way until he found a huge fungus. He grabbed a hold of the weeping vines, and jumped up, attempting to climb it, making it a few feet up. He regretted the decision when he heard a snap, and suddenly he was falling. He fell on his back, with the wind knocked out of him. He shook his head in an attempt to regain his breath. He should be more careful. 

He walked up to the fungus again, and tugged sharply at some of the vines, before deciding that they were too thin. He walked over to the other side, and grinned when he saw twisting thick vines that almost served as a ladder. He scaled the vines, making his way up top, only panicking a little when he lost his footing and slipped, barely managing to catch himself. He stood up on the fungus roof, putting his arm to his forehead as he wiped the sweat off. He considered taking a sip of the fire resistance potion, before deciding against it. He could handle a little heat.

He looked around, still not finding any sign of the child. Dread filled his stomach as he slowly began to realize his situation. The piglin could be anywhere, and he only had a few hours to find him. He looked around, the nether was so big. He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. He would find him. He just needed to focus.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a snort coming from the bottom of the tree. He quickly made his way to scramble down to meet the piglin, already halfway down, before halting abruptly. He stared into the beady white eyes of the hoglin. Well this certainly wasn't what he was expecting. He scrambled back up, barely making it to the top before the vines were pulled down by the hoglin's large tusks. One thing was clear. That snort definitely didn't come from his friend.

He creeped over to the edge, tightening his grip on the fungus as he felt the tree shake from the force of the hoglin charging at the roots. His hands quivered as he pulled out an arrow, bringing it to his bow. He started pulling back, but his hands shook too much and he gave up. Maybe there was a way to stop it without killing it? An idea came to his mind. He pulled out a golden carrot, and threw it as far as he could.

He grinned as he saw the hoglin disappear behind the foliage, clearly hungry. He smirked despite the situation, and stood straight up, getting closer to the edge. His pride however, was short lived when out of the corner of his eye, he saw the hoglin come charging back. He felt the fungus shake, and he fell back. His helmet hit the sharp netherrack with a ting, and he adjusted it back to fit on his head, just in time to see the hoglin turn around to face him with a crazed look in it's eyes. He gulped as he tried to get up. His hands shook as he pushed himself up, angering the hoglin. He froze like a deer in headlights as tusks the size of his arm came straight at him.

He was snapped out of his trance by a sharp tugging on his arm. He followed the grip, sprinting, as he was led to the ledge that jutted out of the netherrack. He quickly scaled up, gulping as he sank to his knees when the adrenaline wore up.

After a few moments, he looked up. The piglin child was staring up at him with wide eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyy it's valentine's day, however, I am very alone, so I wrote a longer chapter instead of actually doing anything :)  
> Hope y'all find love lol


	9. Chapter 9

Wilbur breathed heavily for a few seconds, before his face erupted in a wide grin. He stared at the piglin for a moment, before he adjusted himself so that he was sitting criss crossed. The child in front of him tilted his head, and huffed in what he assumed was a greeting.

Wilbur chuckled "close one there, ay?"

He took another breath, before pulling out a water bottle, and taking a drink. After he gulped, he turned back to piglin. 

"Sorry about getting you thrown out by the way."

He stood up and gestured towards the piglin, already starting to climb down, when he heard a growl. Ah, right, the hoglin was still there. He stared into the ginormous mouth of the creature, the child soon appearing by his side. He hummed, causing the younger to tilt his head in confusion at him. The piglin then pointed to his sword in its sheath, then moved his hooved finger to the hoglin and made a slashing motion, before turning back to look at him quizzically. 

Wilbur unconsciously nodded, pulling out his sword and moved closer to the edge, before he closed his eyes and sighed. He just had to kill it. It would be fine. He opened his eyes again and took a deep breath before staring at the beast's glassy white eyes again. All his willpower was lost just as quickly as it came. He knew that in order to save the piglin's life, he had no other choice, but it was a creature that moved. So big, so full of life, it was almost magnificent, no, not magnificent, they were in hell, more like fascinating. And he would have to destroy it, gently blow away the flame and watch the smoke dissipate into nothingness as he slashed his sword through its head. 

His lips thinned into a tight line, before he was snapped out of his thoughts by an impatient snort next to him. The piglin made grabby hands for his sword, and Wilbur let him take it, not understanding why the piglin wanted it. He had to swallow a gasp when the piglin took a few practice swings, before jumping off the ledge. For a second, he froze in awe, watching as the significantly smaller piglin fought it's much bigger relative, flanking the hoglin from the side.

The awe quickly turned into fear when the piglin lodged his sword into the side of the hoglin, losing his grip. The hoglin turned it's head towards the child, set on revenge right before it died. When he heard the piglin's pained squeal as flew through the air for a moment, before rolling on the ground a few feet away. Something snapped inside of Wilbur. Something that was a mixture of pure fear and protectiveness. He reached for his bow without thinking, watching as the arrow sunk into the beast. With a final groan, the hoglin finally flopped down with a thump, a few whimpers escaping it, before ultimately, it's breathing slowed to a stop.

He jumped down and rushed to the piglin, who was slowly trying to pick himself up, letting out a whine as the netherrack scraped against an open wound. Wilbur put a hand on his back, helping him sit up as he checked for any injuries. He examined his arm. It was ugly. There were purple bruises already starting to form, and a few wounds that thankfully, only seemed to reach beyond the top layer of skin. It wasn't too bad, although the blood did make him feel queasy. He moved to the piglin's leg and touched it, causing the child to jerk back. 

Wilbur raised his hands "Hey, Hey, it's okay."

The piglin hissed as Wilbur carefully brought the limb into few, silently gasping. It looked awful, most likely the place where the hoglin slammed into him. It was covered in scratches, but there was one big wound surrounded by already forming bruises. Fortunately, from what he could see, nothing looked broken, just bleeding.  
He set the leg down, cringing when the piglin winced and scrunched his snout. He looked over the rest of the piglin, there were some bruises, small scratches and cuts littered his pinkish skin, a slightly bigger cut on his hand, but otherwise, the rest of him looked better than the leg and arm. 

The piglin's gaze shifted to the apple that Wilbur had pulled out, and reached for it, remembering the healing effects. He gratefully chomped down on the golden fruit, watching as some of the cuts disappeared. Wilbur frowned when the apple was finished, and the bleeding in leg had only stopped. Grabbing another one and handing it over, he carefully watched the wounds. By the time it was eaten, the arm looked mostly healed, save for a little bit of scab in some of the deeper parts, but the open wound on the leg had only scabbed over, with a few of the deeper bruises lightening. The piglin seemed to notice his concern, and his momentarily distracted eyes trailed over to the leg, frowning at it.

Wilbur ran a hand to his hair, looking around, pausing as he remembered the dead hoglin. He stared at it. Such a great beast, brimming with life, and he had ended it. He looked back to the piglin. But he had done it to protect him, it was gonna die anyway right? He stood up, walking over and yanking out the sword, cringing at the sound it made. Was this how Phil felt when he was in danger? He shook that thought out of his head as he sheathed the sword, and helped the piglin stand up. 

The younger leaned against him, trying to stay upright, and Wilbur put an arm under his armpit, keeping his other hand on the other's shoulder. He guided him away from the forest, keeping an eye out for any more hoglins. They headed towards the direction of the portal, with Wilbur clicking his tongue when he saw it, causing the younger to look up from it's focus on walking. Wilbur, to say the least, did not expect the reaction that followed. The piglin jerked away from him with a surprised squeak, making himself stumbled and fall to the ground. Wilbur rushed down to help him up.

"Hey! what's wrong? Did I do something?"

The child looked up at him with fearful eyes before staring at the portal. Ah, so that was the problem. Wilbur cursed himself, of course he wouldn't want to go through. Phil was on the other side, and Phil hadn't been exactly...the nicest so far.

"Right...well, I don't think I'll be able to sneak out twice, so this is kinda the only option. I can't just leave you here hurt" 

The nether mob hesitantly picked himself up, and gave Wilbur an apprehensive look. Wilbur gave him a reassuring glance, and they walked through the portal together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates might take a bit longer, currently writing on my phone cuz my laptop isn't working, my apologies, thanks for the support!


	10. Chapter 10

The piglin shivered slightly from the sudden cold of the night as they were thrown into the other side. Wilbur urged him forward, and they continued. He noticed how the mob got anxious as they got closer home. At some point, he made a sound akin to that of a sob. When the brunette heard it, he gave him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, and they moved on. Both of them nervously eyed the house as they passed. Wilbur urged them on a little quicker. 

After what seemed like forever, they finally made it to the barn. Wilbur creaked open one of the huge doors enough for them to step through, and shut it. He heard a horse whinny, and he made his way over to it through the moonlight seeping in through the windows. He comforted the horse, which huffed at his fingers as he rubbed the side of its face. The barn was quiet, only the sound of crickets chirping in the distance could be heard. It was disrupted by a pained squeak, and Wilbur chuckled as the piglin glared down at the ground as he tried to walk.

He rushed to him, and helped him towards a corner of the barn where a tub of water stood. He took off his netherite armor, and put it in the water, grabbing a rag and trying his best to get the soot and dust off. Once he managed to get rid of most evidence of the nether from his gear, he gestured for the piglin to stay, and he quietly sneaked into the house. 

Sneaking in was probably worse than sneaking out. Not only was the scraping of the armor still present, his whole body was streaked with dirt from the netherrack. Phil would know he had been to the nether if he was caught. He gulped at the thought of his father finding out. He would be absolutely pissed no matter what excuse he came up with. He eventually managed to stuff all of his gear away, hoping that Phil wouldn't notice the golden apples missing, and grabbed a handful of golden carrots. Quietly stepping into the living room, he grabbed the clothes meant for the piglin, hoping he could conjure an excuse as to why they were missing, and headed to the bathroom, where he poured a little bit of shampoo into a bottle. Once he was satisfied that he had everything he needed, he returned to the barn, grateful that his loud armor was gone.

The child perked up at his arrival, and shifted his head to see what he was holding. Wilbur let him examine the stuff, before setting the clothes down next to the tub and held up the bottle with shampoo. He reached for one of the child's hands and dipped it into the water, before pouring shampoo on it and scrubbing it with the rag. The child's eyes peeked curiously at the bubbles, while Wilbur only griminced at the dirty water dripping from his fingers. After a few seconds, he dipped the arm back into the water, and even with only the moonlight serving as light, they both marveled at how the soot stained, red fur, had become baby pink.

Wilbur helped the piglin out of his clothes, and set him into the water before handing him the shampoo and going outside to wait. When he heard a small oink a few minutes later, he headed back in, helping the piglin out of the tub, and turning away as he dried himself and put the new clothes on. Once he was done, Wilbur turned around, looking surprised for a second. He looked completely different, with the fur no longer filled with grime. Wilbur's old clothes were a huge improvement to the filthy leather clothes that now lay discarded by the side. He walked towards them, picking them up, alongside dragging the tub of water outside, and spilling it onto the grass, watching the dirt soak up the liquid. He then walked over to a small hole under the barn, and shoved the tunic and pants into it, covering it up slightly with a rock.

Once he was done, he returned to the barn, and led the child over to the ladder leading up to the loft, before pausing. How was he going to get him up? He weighed too much for him to just pick him up. He wasn't strong enough. He let the piglin lean against the ladder as he climbed up to the top.

He patted the top bar of the ladder. "Hey, you're going to have to get up here yourself, I might accidentally hurt you if I try to bring us both up here."

The piglin, as if understanding, wobbled over to the ladder, and heaved himself onto the front bar, before hopping onto the next one, mostly using what little strength he had left in his exhausted arms. At the top, Wilbur did his best to pull him up, before setting him down behind some hay and covering him with a blanket. Hoping that the piglin would know when to hide, he waved his good-byes, and headed back into the house, making a beeline to the shower.

\--------------------------------------------------------

The piglin watched the kind human disappear. What did he refer to himself as? Oh right, Wilbur. He watched Wilbur disappear. It had been an eventful day, and in all honesty, all he wanted to do was fall asleep. But he couldn't. He was in a new place, close to where the other mean human was. 

He tried to remember what Wilbur referred to him as.

A voice appeared

"Phil."

Right, Phil. He said it aloud, testing it on his tongue. He snuggled closer to the straw. He wondered, did he have something to refer to himself as? He often heard sounds that didn't make sense, not to him at least. Maybe one of those none existent noises was his name?

Another voice supplied "Technoblade."

That was a noise he heard often. He tested the word, deciding that he liked it. Maybe he could refer to himself as that? It was hard for him to pronounce, but it seemed similar to the names of the humans. Maybe Wilbur could tell him what those strange sounds meant?

Almost as if on command, a chorus of raspy whispers appeared.

"Blood"  
"E"  
"Blood for the blood god"  
"E"  
"He knows his name pog!"  
"Get out of there"  
"Blood"  
"No stay it's safe"  
"Wilbur and Technoblade PogChamp"  
"MonkaS"  
"Blood for the blood god"  
"Techno-name"  
"E"

Technoblade shook his head, momentarily clearing the strange sounds. He caught a glimpse of the house, through the window. Could he really stay here? What if Phil came back and got mad again? He looked back down at his injured leg. It was probably safer here with Wilbur looking after him than him being alone in the nether, right? But being alone meant no Phil. But It also meant no Wilbur…Maybe he would stay a little.

He laid down closer to the straw. It felt softer than anything he ever felt in the nether, besides maybe his own fur. Maybe he could close his eyes for a minute? He felt so tired. It only took a moment for him to fall asleep.


	11. Chapter 11

Phil awoke to the sounds of water sprinkling from the shower. He rubbed his eyes as he drowsily looked at the clock. 4:13 am. Great. He sighed, and flopped back onto the bed, closing his eyes, before forcing himself to get up and get ready. He changed into his normal clothes before trudging over to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. He was almost done making the porridge when the door to the bathroom opened, and out came an exhausted looking Wilbur. Half lidded eyes focused on him for a minute, before Phil spoke “Couldn’t sleep?’

Wilbur nodded as he sat down at the table, blankly staring at the grooves in the wood. Phil gave him a concerned look “Jeez mate, you look like you haven't had a blink of sleep. What kept you up?”

He shook his head “ Nothing, I was just thinking.”

Phil frowned “Wil, this better not be about-”

“No, no, I understand now why he had to go” he said, lying through his teeth. “I just was worried about him being in the nether alone, but he’ll be fine, right?

His father smiled “I’m sure he’s fine, don’t worry about him.” 

He returned the smile “Yeah, he is.”

Phil sprinkled raisins onto the oatmeal, before placing the two bowls down on the table. They ate in silence, looking out the window as the sky got lighter with every passing minute. It felt peaceful. When they were done, Phil went to prepare his hunting gear, as Wilbur nervously read a book, hoping that he wouldn’t notice anything missing. After about an hour, Phil decided that he was ready to head out. 

“Alright mate, I'm going to check the rabbit snares and try to snag some animals, maybe a wild turkey or two. I’ll be back at dusk. Can you do all of the work that I would usually do?

“Yeah, that's fine.”

Phil gave him a smile, before shutting the door. Wilbur waited for an hour, before grabbing some golden carrots, and an apple. It would probably be best for the piglin to get some sleep before waking him up. He took the carrots, and on second thought, a bottle of water. He wasn’t sure if it was needed, afterall, where the hell would piglins find water in the nether in the first place? He strode over to the barn, and climbed the ladder. When he got to the top, he heard some shuffling, and a familiar pink face sleepily looked at him. He heaved himself onto the loft, and sat down, near the child. 

“Hey, I'm back.” He held out a golden carrot. “And I got you some of these.”

The piglin ignored the carrot, choosing to point at himself, and say “Technoblade.”

Wilbur blinked 

“What?”

The piglin repeated himself “Technoblade.”

“Technoblade”

The child seemed to perk up when he said it. “Technoblade, is that your name?”  
When the child didn’t respond, he took it as a yes. “Well Technoblade, Nice to meet you.”

Wilbur pushed the carrots and water over to him watching him eat, before he got an idea. “I’ll be right back.”  
He slid off the ladder, and made his way over to the root cellar under the house, and grabbed a normal carrot and apple. He couldn’t keep feeding him the expensive golden food, Phil would surely notice the absence of them quickly, but surely eating their normal counterparts wouldn’t poison Technoblade, right?

He returned to the loft, and snapped the carrot in half, before handing a piece to Techno. He sniffed it curiously, before chomping down on it. 

“Carrot.”

Techno looked up at him, titling his head. 

He pointed to the other half of the carrot, repeating the sound.

After a moment, he seemed to understand, and tried to say the word “carrot.”

Wilbur beamed “Yes, that’s right, carrot!”. He then pointed to the apple “Apple”

“Appe” 

“Close, but try again, A-pple”

“Apple”

“Yes, correct!"

Technoblade reached for the apple, and took a bite, savoring the sweetness. Once he was done, Wilbur patted his head, and helped him to the edge of the loft.

Techno watched the brunette do chores around the barn. Did things also have their own words assigned to them, like how the nice human was called "Wilbur"? It appeared that way. He swore he heard some of the sounds that Wilbur was saying before, in whispers. He thought of Wilbur pointing to the carrot, and saying the sounds assigned to them. I reminded him of how the sounds in his head made a specific noise sometimes when he picked a specific object up. That meant that Wilbur would know what those sounds meant, right?

A voice appeared "Death"

Technoblade repeated the word "Death"

Wilbur's head whipped around. He stared at Techno for a moment, before a nervous smile crept up onto his face. "Hey… Techno… what was that?"

Technoblade gave him an innocent look. Was that the right thing to say? He looked surprised, but he was also smiling. Wilbur smiled when he did something well, so that was a good sign.

The smile on Wilbur's face fell, replaced with a concerned look. "Hey, can you repeat that?"

Techno's floppy ears pulled back against his skull and his tail gave a nervous swish. Wilbur wasn't smiling anymore. Why wasn't Wilbur smiling. Did he do something wrong? Why did he look so concerned? Did the word mean something bad? Was Wilbur mad? Was he going to get thrown out again. He instinctively reached for his sword, before remembering that it wasn't there. Oh god, he was going to get attacked again, and he wouldn't be able to defend himself.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by gentle hands rubbing through his ears.

"Hey, Hey, It's okay. You're okay."

Wilbur looked down at him, smiling again. He was smiling. That was good. Techno let himself lean into the touch, embracing it. He was safe. There was nothing to worry about.

In the back of his head, a chorus of wispy voices, barely audible, started chanting a single word, getting more demanding by the second.

"death"  
"death"  
"death"  
"Death"  
"Death."  
"Death!"  
"DEATH!"


End file.
